


A New Personality

by TidbitsAndThoughts



Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 04:17:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TidbitsAndThoughts/pseuds/TidbitsAndThoughts
Summary: Alfendi Layton confronts Makepeace and the rest is straightforward! Or... not. While the son of Hershel Layton finds himself comatose, his dreams are influenced by visitors to the hospital.





	A New Personality

Alfendi ascended the stairs quickly. His breath staggered as he ran. He was not going to let the murderer get away. He clutched the gun in his hand. It was just for protection of course, he wouldn't shoot unless he had to, even if the man he was pursuing might have been responsible for many deaths.

Finally, he reached the top of the stairs, they let out into open air, the top floor of the castle. The rain was hammering at the cold stone, filling the air with the scent of fresh water and some type of plant nearby. Alfendi took a step out onto the floor, glancing around at the shadows behind him before turning his attention forwards. That was when he spotted the man.

Keelan Makepeace was grinning with his gun pointed right at Alfendi's heart. Alfendi tilted his head down, snickering as the rain splattered against his messy hair and dark coat.

“I see, you plan to make me your next victim,” Alfendi chuckled as he lifted his head to look Makepeace in the eyes. “What makes you think you'll get away with it?”

“I have friends in the force,” Makepeace answered, still smiling. “I can get away with anything, especially murder.” Alfendi paused, narrowing his eyes. A friend in the force was helping him get away with murder... perhaps by getting rid of evidence.

“My case,” He said suddenly, his eyes brightening. “Of course, it seemed insolvable because we couldn't pin the murder on any of the suspects, it made no sense, but someone tampered with the camera, probably removing the pictures that showed the time frame when you performed the murder. How interesting.”

“And it's not just that case,” Makepeace boasted, “there are more, many more. And this one will just be one more that I get away with.” Lightening flashed, momentarily breaking Alfendi's concentration. There was a gun shot and he sucked in a breath as he felt an immense pain in his chest. His gun dropped to the ground as he sunk to his knees.

“No! Don't shoot Al! Stand down!” Justin's voice bellowed from far away. Alfendi collapsed, his head hitting the hard cold stone. The rain continued to pour and the last thing he remembered before loosing consciousness was Makepeace's cold laugh and the horrid pain in his chest.

* * *

The light shined brightly into the room. Alfendi had to cover his eyes as he looked around. The walls of the room were painted a baby blue color, and a blue crib stood in the corner. Immediately he knew he was in a nursery, but why? He pushed himself to his feet, closely examining every inch of the room for clues. However, nothing was amiss. There were a few toys scattered across the floor, picture books were stacked on a miniature bookcase, the carpet was soft to the touch, perfect for a child that could not yet walk. It was a nursery that had been carefully crafted, one that obviously had been the product of doting parents.

Suddenly, a wail came from outside the room. Alfendi advanced to the door and made a move to open it, but before he could lay a hand on the handle, the knob twisted and the door swung open. Alfendi gasped as the door headed for him. He braced himself for a collision, but one never came. He opened his eyes with surprise as a man cradling a screaming bundle walked straight through him. His eyes widened as he glanced down at his hands. They seemed solid enough, but.... He looked up again and gave the door a push, causing his hand to turn translucent as it slid through the door as easily as if it were air. He narrowed his eyebrows. Was he dead? Was he a ghost? What was going on?

“Don't fret, little one.” A warm voice cooed by the crib. “Hush, Alfendi, it's alright.” Alfendi whipped around, his white coat swishing as he did so. He watched the man as he rocked the bundle in his arms. The wailing child in his embrace quieted and the man smiled, tipping his brown top hat. “There you are,” the gentleman encouraged as he continued to rock the baby. “I won't let anything hurt you.”

“Dad.” Alfendi whispered, recognizing his father. Hershel Layton smiled as the young baby in his arms, undoubtedly Alfendi when he was younger, drifted to sleep. Hershel pressed a kiss to the baby's forehead before easing him into the crib. Alfendi made his way to the professor of archeology's side and watched as Hershel tucked in the child.

“This is a memory.” Alfendi commented out loud. However, Hershel didn't respond, having not have heard the apparition next to him. “But whose?” He wondered, “I don't recall any of this, and I would think the memory would play out in my point of view.”

“That's it, Alfendi,” Hershel said to his child. “I promise to stay with you.”

The ghost Alfendi rolled his eyes. As if his father would stay. Hershel was a busy man, why would he remain idle in a sleeping child's room? However, Hershel surprised Alfendi by leaning back into the rocking chair by the crib. The professor seemed weary, with small circles under his eyes. He couldn't have had much sleep in the past few days. As he rocked a little, Hershel's eyes drifted closed. And the professor kept his promise, staying by little Alfendi's side.

“This must be my dad's memory,” Alfendi deduced. “He's the only other person here, but why? How am I seeing this?” As soon as he voiced his question, the scene dissolved, leaving Alfendi wandering through darkness. 

_You don't remember anything that happened._ A voice called through the darkness. _You shot first. You killed Makepeace._ Alfendi glanced around the void, but he was all alone.

“Who are you?” He called, “Where are you? What is going on?” But the voice didn't speak again, leaving Alfendi to himself. He put his hand to his head, bewildered. He couldn't make any sense of what was happening. Was he really dead? Was this hell? His frustration escalated, and he brought down his hand in a clenched fist.

“Answer me!” He yelled angrily at the nothingness. “What is going on?”

“Claire!” A familiar voice called behind him. He whirled around and watched as a setting took shape. Trees appeared, and against the horizon a large building, Al believed it to be a university, faded into view. Next, just a few yards away, a fountain appeared. The sound of gurgling water mixed with that of a light girlish laugh. “Claire!” the voice called again as a girl sat down by the fountain.

“Hershel,” the girl smiled sweetly as someone ran to her. Alfendi raised his eyebrows, watching as a younger version of his father sit next to the girl.

_I'm never really talked to anyone about Claire._ Hershel's voice filled Alfendi's head, seeming to add context to the scene playing out in front of him. _Not even Luke. I've never had the strength too. And I wish I told you of her sooner, Alfendi._ Hershel and the girl, apparently Claire, were laughing as they ate lunch, a picnic by the fountain. _Claire was a remarkable woman. I wish you could have met her._ Alfendi drew closer and observed his father and this strange girl. They seemed happy, and the way Hershel looked at this woman was the same way he would look at his little baby in the future. Alfendi frowned, he was so used to dealing with criminals, he could figure out any gruesome motive and read into the most twisted of hearts. He understood them as if he was a killer himself, thriving on the thrill of murder. However, that was not the case now. Clearly Hershel and Claire loved each other, anyone could see that, but why? What was the point? His father was as foreign to him as another country.

The scene dissolved once more and Alfendi sighed as he shuffled along in the darkness. He was getting use to the strange place. He vaguely wondered how long he had been wandering.

_You cornered him on the roof. You shot him. I called out. You and Makepeace each shot at the same time. You killed him with the second shot and he nearly killed you._

Even though he knew it was useless, Alfendi glanced around for the voice. Instead, a new scene came into view. Gray stone blocks appeared beneath his feet. Rain showered down, but it merely went through Alfendi in his ghost like state. He glanced up and saw himself. His other version looked cocky, and he was holding a gun that was directed at something or someone. Alfendi turned around and understood immediately. He took a step back and decided to watch the scene play out. Maybe he would find out what happened after Makepeace shot him.

However, a gun shot rang out and Makepeace cried out in pain. Alfendi whirled around in surprise, his image grinning madly like a blood thirsty killer.

“No, no!” Alfendi cried. “That's not what happened!”

“No! Don’t shoot, Al! Stand Down!” Justin called from far away. Alfendi ran to his image's side.

“Stop!” He tried to grab the gun from his image, but his hand simply slipped through. The other Alfendi shot once again just as Makepeace pulled the trigger. Both men collapsed in a pile of blood and the scene began to fade.

“No! That wasn't what happened! I didn't shoot anyone!” Alfendi yelled as darkness enveloped him. He dropped to the ground, with his head in his hands. He didn't understand. He felt so lost. Nothing made sense here. What were these scenes he continued to see? Where were the voices coming from?

_Alfendi, I'm sorry_. He looked up, it was still dark, but he was sure he was hearing his father's voice again. _I wish I could have been there for you_. Alfendi let out a huff. He wasn't really in the mood for an apology. In fact, he wasn't sure why his father was the one offering one. It wasn't Hershel's fault Alfendi pushed him away.

_Do you remember the story about the time Luke and I met Flora?_ His father's voice came again. Alfendi sighed and pushed himself to his feet. As expected, a new scene came into place, one with rolling green hills and a curious looking village.

* * *

Time passed, and Alfendi was forced to experience many more scenes featuring his father and the same scene with Makepeace's death over and over again. To be honest, he was exhausted, having to watch scene after scene, but there was nothing else for him to do in his peculiar void. He tried to ignore the scenes and simply sleep, but that usually resulted with a gun shot blasting right in his ear as the scenes changed.

At the moment, he was witnessing another one of his father's tales. It was nearly over, as the mastermind called Clive Dove, an intriguing character, by the way, Alfendi found him quite entertaining, was about to be locked away, of course he was going to make amends to his crimes, which was something Alfendi had never witnessed, he couldn't believe that his father could have such an impact on a killer, but there was still more to come.

Celeste, the girl claiming to be the late Claire's sister had begun crying. Alfendi raised his eyebrows as it was revealed that that was Claire herself. He continued watching as his father was dragged to a secluded place by Claire. Alfendi followed and watched as Claire said her final goodbyes. His father cried out in distress for her not to go. Alfendi rubbed the corner of his eye, and if anyone asked he would say he got a bit of dust in it. Claire disappeared, and Hershel turned towards Alfendi, who looked on as his father's shoulders shook violently and tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Dad,” Alfendi said softly, wishing he could reach out and comfort his father. He clenched his fists at his side though, unable to do a thing. He angrily turned around, avoiding looking at his father, but he glanced over his shoulder just as Hershel removed his hat, looking up into the sky with a calm expression.

“Unbelievable.” Alfendi huffed. “Really, Dad? Are you going to just be a gentleman and not let this get to you?! How have you managed to stay so sane all you're life?” He started to yell as the scene wavered, “Haw can you be this way? Why do you let things like this happen to you? It’s like you never think about yourself! Why don’t you get mad for once? Do something ungentlemanly for the first time in your life, good God!” he collapsed to the ground in distress. His shoulders shook and angry hot tears filled his eyes, but he refused to let them out. He couldn't understand. How could someone like Hershel Layton be his father? They were so different. He was hot headed while Hershel was calm. Alfendi rather forget while Hershel rather forgive.

He missed him. Alfendi clenched his fists. He missed his father so much. He hated it and he hated that his dad was so perfect. Yet a small, hidden part inside Alfendi wanted desperately to be like his father, to be calm, forgiving, peaceful. A single tear slid down his cheek and plopped onto the black nothingness.

_You cornered him on the roof. You shot him. I called out. You and Makepeace each shot at the same time. You killed him with the second shot and he nearly killed you._ The voice echoed once more. Alfendi sighed, refusing to get up as the same scene rolled into view. He watched again as he shot Makepeace.

Yes, maybe it did happen this way. Maybe he did shoot Makepeace. Maybe he did kill a man. The small part inside of him grew, the hidden desire to be like his father grew, and the hot headed Alfendi started to retract, making room for this new part of himself.

He was Alfendi Layton. And he shot and killed Makepeace.

* * *

“Al!” a voice boomed as Alfendi's eyelids fluttered. A blinding light flashed in his eyes and squeezed them shut. Again, he tried to open his eyes, slowly letting them adjust to the light.

“Al!” a feminine voice cried with joy. As the world came into focus, Alfendi saw his friends, Justin and Hilda crowded around him.

“Oh my gosh, are you alright, Al?” Hilda asked, putting the back of her hand to Alfendi's forehead, as if to check his temperature.

“Yes,” Alfendi answered, pushing himself into a sitting position. He glanced around, he was in a hospital bed, hooked up to numerous machines. “What happened?”

“What do you last remember?” Justin asked cautiously.

“You were in a coma!” Hilda explained at the same time. “You were shot, and-”

“Shot by Makepeace?” Alfendi interrupted. “That's right,” He recalled, “I shot him first and then we both shot at the same time. I think I killed him, right? That's all I remember.”

“What?!” Hilda cried as Justin tried to hide a smile. 

“Well, I'd say that's a full confession.” Justin attempted a frown.

“No, Alfendi, you wouldn't do something like that!” Hilda exclaimed.

“But I did,” He smiled placidly. “It was a high tense situation, and I did what I did to protect myself. I'll accept the consequences.” Justin and Hilda exchanged horrified looks before looking back to Alfendi.

“What's the matter?” He asked calmly.

“Aren't you angry?” Justin asked, “You aren't really acting like yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Alfendi asked thoughtfully, “I'm the same Alfendi I've always been.”

“You aren't.” Hilda covered her mouth as she took a step back. A flash of determination sparked in her eyes as an idea crossed her mind. She leaned forward, furrowing her eyebrows. “You aren’t the real Alfendi, you bastard! Now yell at me!”

“Hilda,” Alfendi frowned, looking a bit sheepish. “What was that for? I wouldn't yell at you.” She gasped, tears welling up in her eyes. She took a few steps back as Alfendi reached out to her, trying to comfort her.

“No,” she shook her head, “no, you aren't him, you aren't my Alfendi.” She let out a choked gasp and fled from the room.

“Hilda!” Alfendi called once more, but it was no use, she was gone. Justin laughed and gave Alfendi a thump on the back.

“Ah, don't worry about her, she's just a little upset over the whole thing.” He assured light heartedly. “Anyway, you must be hungry, I'll get one of the nurses, and the commissioner will want to speak with you.” Justin stood up and headed to the door.

“How long was I out?” Alfendi asked. Justin turned, appraising his friend for a moment before answering.

“A pretty long time, we were worried you weren't going to make it...” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “Do you remember anything from while you were asleep?”

“Nothing,” Alfendi answered truthfully. “I remember Makepeace and the case, and then just waking up. I don't think I dreamed at all.”

“Huh,” Justin nodded with a pleased grin. “Alright then, I'll just go tell everyone you're awake. The professor will rest easy knowing you're doing better.”

“The professor?” Alfendi asked, confused.

“Yep, good old Layton came every day you were asleep.” Justin grinned, “I know you two aren't really on speaking terms, but your father would always come in the morning and talk to you, mostly he told stories. He was really worried, you know.” 

“Dad?” Alfendi asked himself once Justin was gone. He brought his hand to his lips thoughtfully. He wasn't sure why, but when he thought about his father conflicting feelings rose up in his chest. Half of him was angry, but one half, the one present at the moment, felt a sort of fondness. Suddenly, there was a stab of pain in his head and Alfendi leaned back with a small moan. He sighed as his head ached. Whatever he was thinking about dissolved as he shut his eyelids and drifted off into a light sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this long before Katrielle and her story came along. (I just started to watch the anime so no spoilers!!) but I'm starting to suspect Hershel might not have been able to visit Alfendi in the hospital depending on when he was missing? I don't know. I'll tackle that later but for now, enjoy! This is a fic I've brought over from my tumblr (finally) and I made some minor changes.


End file.
